And she's certainly a clever, curious baby!
Last night I was doing the dishes and Phoebe was continuously trying to climb into the dishwasher, of course. In my current phase of life the children are often on dish duty and I am merely a helper. Often my job is simply keeping Phoebe occupied while the dish-doers do the dishes (because my children are getting more and more capable as time wears on). However, I was reminded of when I was the main dishwasher of the house because my children were largely too little to be helpful so I would always wash the dishes. And I would do it after I had all the kids down for the night because there was simply too much chaos to ever do it before.
Because babies would be climbing onto the dishwasher and things...
But, the big kids were all at Grandpa's house last night, so I did the dishes after dinner and Phoebe was absolutely determined to get into the dishwasher. I plopped her into her walker to keep her at bay, which usually works. However, she's gotten pretty good at navigating that thing and, as it turns out, the walker is designed in such a way that it slides right under/over the dishwasher door. Phoebe just lined herself up and pulled in like it was her designated parking spot.
"Is that your comfort potato?" I chuckled.
"Her what?!" Andrew asked, looking down at her. "Oh! I didn't even notice she had a potato!"
She's very happy that we keep the potatoes down low (though we might not be keeping them that low for long).
And here she is having discovered a ziplock bag of popcorn.
This poor popcorn.
I'm sure is a combination of getting older + lugging around a chubby baby, but my hips are killing me. My right hip specifically (my left hip is fine). I'd been wondering what I could have done the other day, when I swung Phoebe up and sat her on my hip and...oh! That could be what's giving me grief!
Not all my babies had 9 month check ups, but, I can tell you that Phoebe is definitely my biggest baby at 9 months, unless the doctor's scales surprise me with a lower exact weight.
Edited to add Phoebe's weight from her doctor's appointment on August 26 (at 9.5 months old): 19 lbs. 14 oz. So, the biggest baby yet! But had we checked her weight two weeks ago, she might have just matched Alexander (I'm just saying).
Phoebe: 19 lbs. 14. oz (at 9.5 months)
Alexander: 19 lbs. 12 oz (21 lbs. at a year)
Zoë: 19 lbs. 7.5 oz. (20 lbs. 15 oz. at a year)
Benjamin: 16 lbs. 15.3 oz (18 lbs at a year)
Miriam: no 9 month check up (19 lbs. at a year though)
Rachel: no 9 month check up (19 lbs. 12 oz. at a year)
In addition to really liking food, Phoebe still nurses like a newborn, so it's no wonder she's packing on those ounces!
It's equally no wonder why Andrew and I are so very exhausted. I'm sure that once again our age has something to do with it. Andrew keeps telling me that I'm ridiculous when I bring up our age as a factor for anything, but although we might feel like we're still young, the truth of the matter is that we are rapidly approaching our 40s and time takes its toll!
When I first went to the OB/GYN for Rachel, the doctor called me a "spring chicken." I was just 21 years old! When I went to the OB/GYN for Phoebe the doctor classified me as a "geriatric mother." I'm 37 and we've been getting up in the night with babies for fifteen years. We are TIRED.
My cousin's baby is 9 weeks old and her son just turned 13. Currently the baby shares with the teenager (honestly, an arrangement Rachel was pushing for, but which didn't make sense in our house because neither Zoë nor Alexander are ready to sleep that far away from Mom and Dad (in the basement) and for Rachel to move upstairs, that's what would have to happen, but anyway), and my cousin had this to say:
...If I haven’t put her in her bed before he goes to bed he always comes and takes her to put her to bed. He’ll get up in the night with her too if I don’t hear her (luckily that only happened about three times before she started sleeping through the night).